Kitty Slippers
by AngelBurn6
Summary: "But, at the brief sight of the girl with her bags, Brady somehow knew. His summer was about to completely change." Brady's POV. Companion story to 'Surfing Lessons'
1. Chapter 1

**Brady's POV! Thank you all for your reviews and follows. You all are seriously so amazing and motivated me to create this story:)**

**Just a little warning: the plot of this story is basically exactly the same as 'Surfing Lessons' (which I recommend you read before reading this, but you won't be missing anything if you don't) so there won't be many surprises. The only difference is that you get to see what's going on in our favorite blonde surfer's head! I hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own TBM :)**

**Enjoy! vv**

* * *

The day started off like any other morning.

The sunlight poured in through the windows in bright warm yellow beams, bathing the room in its hues. Two honey brown eyes tiredly blinked open, taking in their surroundings. His room was the same, a cheerful blue and yellow. Once the salty, ocean smell drifted in through the windows, he quickly sat up, letting the covers fall to his waist.

"I think I could get in some surfing," Brady checked his cellphone on his bedside table, seeing the flashing 7:37 A.M. He stretched his arms over his head, cracking his joints and mentally getting ready for the new day.

"Brady, are you up yet?" a voice called down from the kitchen. He allowed his monster yawn to finish before responding.

"Yeah, Mom! I'm getting ready."

"Well, get your surfing over with quickly, okay sweetie? John expects you at his shop at 9," his mother explained, her voice drifting through the hallways. Brady cracked his back one more time before hopping up from his bed and padding to his closet.

There wasn't really any hard decision in finding what he would wear surfing that day. Brady just liked to humor himself as he stood in front of his slightly sparse closet space. There were a few shirts and cargo shorts, even a short-sleeved dress shirt here and there for special occasions.

With a half-smile, he leaned forward, pulling out his favorite yellow rash guard and board shorts. Within seconds, he had them on. Brady checked the mirror hanging next to his door. He looked the same; with his light brown eyes and tall stature. He didn't even bother trying to fix his messy blonde hair before rushing out the door.

He found his mother relaxing at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper. She glanced up at him with her warm navy eyes when he entered.

"Honey, get something to eat before you go," she instructed, motioning toward the fridge in their homey kitchen. It was designed exactly like the rest of the houses lining the beach; warm and summery. Normally, people would just spend their summers near the beach, but Brady and his family have lived there for years. It was just their thing.

"I'll just pick something up at the diner on the way Mom," he answered, hurrying to place a quick kiss to her cheek. He rushed out the back door, relishing in the way the warming sand felt between his toes. It flew behind him as he jogged along the house, picking up his favorite surfboard leaning against the wall.

"Yo Brady!" one of his friends hollered from down the beach. He waved with earnest, but his mind was set on the waves in front of him, getting closer and closer.

One could say Brady's life was pretty relaxed. He spent his summers on the beach, surfing and generally having the time of his life along the shore. It would be strange to see him worry about anything, since Brady could call himself a pretty chill and easygoing guy. Everyone who lived in that area grew up with Brady, and he knew practically everyone his age surfing as well.

He spent about 45 minutes shredding on the waves, loving how the salty water sprayed over him as he pulled off multiple tricks he had taught himself. The aerial moves were his all-time favorite, though.

"Nice ride, man," his friend Alex offered him a hang-loose sign, grinning easily. Brady shook the water out of his soaked blonde hair as he treaded out of the frothy water, giving Alex the sign back. Surfing was his life, and Brady was proud of it.

He carried his board down the shore, breathing in the warm, salty scent and nodding to familiar people passing by. John's place was only a few houses down from his, and he spent more of his time there than his actual home.

"Ding dong!" he chimed, mocking the sound the door to the old guy's shop should make. That is, if he actually purchased a bell. It was a shop, after all.

"Morning, Brady," John greeted, twisting his head around to grin at Brady. He was polishing the shelves of the many small surfing equipment. "How were the waves this morning?"

"Not bad," Brady confessed. He made sure his feet were dry before hopping over the counter and walking toward the adjoining room. It was where all the surf board pieces and tools were kept. "What should I do first today?"

"Just sand Shelly's board a little. It's the purple striped one."

As Brady got to work in the workshop, he fell into a comfortable rhythm. He loved working for John. He didn't get paid, but he simply loved spending all his time near surfboards. John disagreed with the paying aspect, but Brady insisted. The guy wasn't a bad form of company either. He had the same relaxed personality as Brady, anyways.

"Oh, Brady," John called, once a customer exited the store. He dropped his sanding tools and walked toward the main room.

"What's up?"

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm probably closing the store tomorrow."

Brady frowned. John never closed the store during the summer. It was only busy around the beginning of June, like it was now. He usually took advantage of the possibility of more customers. Maybe something was wrong… "How come?"

"My granddaughter is staying with me all summer," he explained, a twinkle in his light blue eyes. "She's arriving around nine tomorrow morning. I just wanted to spend the first day with her, if that's alright."

"Of course, John," Brady nodded. He completely understood. Though, John never really talked about his family before that day. Brady was curious, since he always thought of John as that happy old man who was totally content with living on his own. It would be nice to see him with family he seemed to love a lot. "I'll probably just go surfing tomorrow."

"Sounds good," John answered, but Brady noticed how cheerful he suddenly looked at the mention of his granddaughter. "Now get back to work young man!"

Brady rolled his eyes with a chuckle before heading back to the workshop.

* * *

He got up almost the exact same time the next day.

Even though he didn't have to squeeze in some surf time before heading to John's, he still liked how the water was when the sun was still rising. It felt more refreshing, more promising.

He was sitting on the sand, letting the rising water tickle his toes for a second before being sucked back into the ocean. His arms worked while he waxed his board, preparing for a great morning of surfing.

For some strange reason, he turned his head around curiously, scanning the slightly busy beach as people ran around.

His eyes spotted John jogging out of his house. He was heading toward the side of it, where a lone figure stood with an armful of bags.

His granddaughter, Brady realized suddenly.

'Good for John,' he noted absently, turning back to finish waxing his board. It'll be good for him to have family spending time with him.

The morning started off the exact same as it had for the past few years; with the rushing waves lain out before him, his board beside him.

But, at the brief sight of the girl with her bags, Brady somehow knew…

His summer was about to completely change.

* * *

**Hopefully this didn't completely suck:) And I also hope you guys liked Brady's POV! Let me know if I should continue this story~**

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	2. Chapter 2

**Here's the second chapter! Thanks so much for your reviews. 14 for one chapter! I love all you guys3**

**Disclaimer: I don't own TBM:)**

**Enjoy! vv**

* * *

It was funny how early Brady woke up nowadays. It was summer, after all. Teenagers his age should be partying all night and sleeping in until noon. Despite his friends pestering him about joining them on their little late night parties, he would rather spend his time waking up to a rising sun, not waking up with a massive hangover.

He padded down the stairs of his quiet home. Not even his mother was up, and she was an early bird as well. Brady didn't bother pulling on his rash guard yet, since he wanted to make sure John didn't need help right away. After that, he would head toward the waves with his trusty board.

He shut the back door quietly, hoping to not wake up his sleeping parents. They would kill him for waking them up so early. Well, more his dad than his mom. He was more of an afternoon guy.

The beach was pretty quiet, besides a stray fisherman or early jogger. He let the cool morning air brush his skin, savoring the salty breeze and inhaling it deeply. He loved it here. He'd stay forever if he could, just surfing and-

"Yo Brady," a deep voice suddenly called, disrupting Brady from his trance. He blinked, looking forward to see his friend Dylan with his dog.

"Hey, man!" he responded, surprised to see him up so early. Dylan was one of his partier friends who urged him to join them. He was quite the ladies' man, but that was how Dylan worded it. Brady would go more along the lines of inconsiderate flirt. He was cool enough, but Brady hated how he treated girls.

"What are doing up so early?" Dylan wondered, pulling his restless dog by his leash before he wandered too far away.

"I'm just heading to the shop to check up on it," he explained, crossing his arms. "John might need some help."

"I gotcha," he nodded, running a hand through his cropped dark blonde hair. "Hey, you wanna play some football with us later? We'll be around here in the afternoon."

"Sounds awesome!" Brady bumped knuckles with him before waving goodbye and finishing the short journey to Big Papa's.

He peeked into the shop, just in case John happened to be in there. It was a good hour or two before he opened it, so John would most likely be in the actual house than his shop. However, he was shocked to see John's back facing him in the workshop.

"John?" he opened the door and poked his head in, calling to get his attention. He fleetingly noticed he didn't call out his signature 'ding dong!' but that wasn't important at the moment.

The white-haired man spun around, a surfboard tool clutched in his hand. "Brady! Why are you here so early?"

Brady raised a dark eyebrow. "I could ask you the same thing."

He noticed how tired John seemed as he rubbed a hand over his face. "I forgot to finish fixing Mr. Andrews' surfboard fin yesterday and he's picking it up soon. And I still need to make breakfast and-"

"Say no more," Brady held up a hand, grinning triumphantly. "I'll go and cook breakfast. You just finish up the board."

"You sure, son?"

"Absolutely," Brady was glad to help. After all, John had helped him with way more of his problems. It was the least he could do.

He spun toward the side door that connected to John's house. Everything was familiar, so Brady had no trouble finding all the necessary ingredients to make a serving of pancakes and eggs.

He was in the middle of flipping a pancake when a sudden loud bang came from behind him. He whipped around in surprise; forgetting about the flying pancake and seeing it fall to the floor with a resounding plop.

In front of him was probably the most adorable sight he could possibly see that morning. There was a girl, about his age it looked like, with messy brown hair and the cutest pajamas.

She looked shocked, scared, and pissed, all rolled into one expression. Brady might have been alarmed, if it weren't for her looking so cute. She fumbled for a frying pan lying next to her, holding it up in what he assumed was supposed to be a threatening gesture. She shook it toward him and opened her mouth to speak.

"W-what are you doing here?" she question roughly, glaring at him with ignited brown eyes. He wanted to laugh this time. How many guys could say they had been in this situation? He had a mysterious teenage girl in her pajamas threatening him with a pan.

'Oh my God, are those cat slippers?!'

Brady abruptly realized she had asked a question and raised a curious eyebrow. He thought it was pretty obvious. "Um, flipping pancakes? Who are you?"

"Get out of my house!" she snapped, waving the pan again. Brady noticed the endearing little wrinkle of her nose when she scowled at him.

'Wait, what did she say?'

"Your house?" he spoke up, feeling his eyebrows rise high in confusion. He stared at her more carefully. Wait, she was the same girl with the bags the day before! He could hardly recognize her without her preppy clothes and neatly curled hair. Though, he only saw her from a distance, but he could still tell who she was. "Oh! You're John's granddaughter!"

He enjoyed the look of utter shock and disbelief that crossed over her face. She stared at him, blinking owlishly. He nearly laughed, but held it back just in time. While she stared at him in frustration, Brady took it upon himself to stare right back, but for an entirely different reason.

"Oh, Mack, you're up!" John stepped into the kitchen, wiping his hand across his forehead and looking much more awake and relaxed than he was earlier that morning. Brady figured he finished the surfboard in time to check up on them.

While John explained to his granddaughter…Mack, was it?...Brady felt the grin overtake his features. The situation suddenly seemed hilarious to him for some reason. Mack's head jerked back and forth between them like a bobble head. After a few long seconds, she finally placed her sad excuse for a weapon on the counter.

"So, I'm guessing you guys met already?" John wondered. Brady noticed the little knowing smirk he wore.

"Well, not exactly," Brady laughed, glancing at the beautiful girl standing a few feet in front of him. She glowered down to the floor, refusing to look up at him. "She came in and threatened me with a frying pan."

John nearly choked on his own spit. "What? Mack, why?"

Brady zoned out on what she was saying. She looked exasperated, but at least looked calmer than before. The girl eventually stomped back down the hall in her furry cat slippers, leaving him and John alone in the kitchen.

"Well, that was interesting," was all Brady could get out after the whole spectacle.

"She's not normally like that," John felt the need to explain. "Trust me, she'll warm up to you soon. She's just…adjusting." He nodded, still staring down the hall she disappeared into. It was obvious Mack was new to the town, possibly even the beach in general, but Brady didn't feel like she stuck out in a bad way. She was like a breath of fresh air. She was refreshing, and he realized hewouldn't mind getting to know her a little more.

* * *

The sand was warm under his feet as Brady ran forward, chasing the flying football so it landed in his outstretched arms. He celebrated with a goofy dance, hearing the laughter erupt from his friends and a few nearby loungers.

"Nice catch, man!" Dylan hollered, pumping a fist into the air as the other guys groaned. Brady and his buddies from school were in the middle of a small scrimmage later that morning. He was sweaty and a little tired, but it was the most fun he's had all day.

A few minutes of senseless tackling and goofing off later, Dylan shouted off a brief warning before whipping the football into the air for Brady to catch.

It was a bomb, sailing over his head toward the surf. He chased it, shielding his eyes from the bright sun as he searched for the flying ball.

It was practically in his hands when suddenly he crashed into a body sitting in the sand. He toppled over, careful not to crush the person any more than he did. Hopping to his feet, he glanced down to apologize when familiar brown eyes gaping up at him.

"Shirtless Boy?" she gasped, but her hand flung over her mouth as if she didn't mean for the words to slip from her lips.

"I am so sorry," Brady laughed, ignoring the name she called him. She looked totally embarrassed, and he owed her enough after running into her to not call her out on it. "Didn't see you there."

He reached his hand down to help her up, praying she would take it as some sort of showing that she didn't completely hate him. He hadn't even seen her smile, yet.

Despite his eager helpfulness, she glared at his hand before getting to her feet herself, brushing off the sand. "Watch where you're going."

"Sorry, my friend over there," Brady gestured to Dylan who was glancing interestedly in their direction, "threw a bomb with this football."

"My book!" she suddenly gasped, twisting around to face the ocean. She rushed into the water, fumbling clumsily for a soaked little book. He watched with a raised eyebrow when she turned around. She looked completely crestfallen, blinking back tears furiously.

"You okay?" he found himself calling out to her. It was a stupid book, something Brady tended to avoid, so why was she freaking out so much?

She ignored him and slowly walked back to where he was standing. She packed her things, stuffing her towel into her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. With wide eyes, Brady stared as she headed back down the beach, leaving him standing there.

'You idiot!' he scolded himself. His body filled with regret and shame while he looked at her retreating back.

"Hey, wait up!" he ran down the beach to catch up with her. "I didn't mean to make you leave. You can still sit there, you know."

She ignored him. What else was new?

"Is it because of the book?" he blurted. "It's just a stupid book, you know."

Well, obviously it wasn't just a stupid book if she was crying over it, but that thought didn't process through Brady's mind before he spoke.

"It's not a 'stupid book'!" she whirled around, poking a finger into his chest. "Now, please go away!"

She turned to walk away again, but Brady wasn't going to let it happen again. He grabbed her wrist before she got too far away, holding it against his chest. Her skin was so soft…

"Mack, I didn't mean to make you so upset," he beseeched, holding her tight to him.

"It's McKenzie," she snapped. "Only my friends and family call me Mack."

"I'm sorry," Brady pleaded, urging her to forgive him. He didn't know why he was trying so hard. He just knew he wanted to see her smile at him at least once…

She sighed, dropping her head for a second before glancing back up to look a Brady with a sad look in her eye. He was startled, used to seeing the pissed off fire in her eyes, not this heartbroken unhappiness.

"It was my mother's."

Crap.

Well, he was officially the biggest idiot on the face of the planet.

Brady clearly remembered how sad John was for a few months when he discovered his youngest daughter had passed away. He closed the shop for the longest time, and Brady knew very well how much she meant to John. It wasn't until Mack arrived that he seemed much happier.

Brady watched helplessly as she walked away, feeling his chest tighten with guilt.

So much for making her smile.

* * *

**Aww poor Brady:( I hope you guys liked this chapter! The updates won't be as quick as Surfing Lessons, but I'l try! I'm hoping to post each new chapter every week. Once again, I apologize if the story seems boring in any way. I know the plot isn't interesting, seeing as you all know what's going to happen. I'd just say Kitty Slippers is like a leisure read, and I just ****_love_**** writing in Brady's POV.**

**REVIEW pretty please3 vv**


	3. Chapter 3

**And here's the next chapter for you amazing readers:)**

**Enjoy! vv**

* * *

The words glared up at him. Startling black in his messy scrawl on the crisp white sheet of paper. Brady had never written a note to someone before in his life like this. Sure, he'd pass the occasional note in class to his friends during school, but he wanted this to be meaningful.

He sighed, running a hand through his messy blonde hair as he ran his eyes over the words for the seventh time. Would she buy it? Maybe it was too much… He should probably just let her anger die down before talking to her again. Giving her a freaking note like some school boy with a crush would most likely end up with it thrown back in his face.

Why was he even putting this much of an effort into it anyways? Brady began to pace back and forth in his room, glancing once in a while out his window at the setting sun.

What to do, what to do…

He already got the replacement book for her, which was sitting on his bed in perfect condition. It was the same one as the ruined one she held in her hands earlier that day. Though, this book was actually dry and the spine was still in place. The small paper that was causing his uneasiness was still sitting on his desk.

He'd never done something like write an apology note to a girl before. Then again, he never really had the need to. And McKenzie was someone he just met, no less!

But, there was something about her that made Brady want to see more of her. He longed to see her smile. He bet on his surfboard that it was beautiful.

Taking the chance, he grabbed the piece of paper, stuffed it in his board shorts pocket, and hurried out the door before the sun could completely set.

* * *

Much to his surprise, the day began normally. Though it shouldn't have surprised Brady much, he still expected something to happen. When he dropped off the book and note to John the previous night to give to his granddaughter, Brady could only hope she would read it and accept his offer. He was up and at Big Papa's before the sun fully rose over the ocean.

After the craziness of yesterday, he needed some normalcy.

John was at the back of the building, probably talking to a friend about his surfboards. Brady was left alone in the shack to sand a few longboards, glancing once in a while at the television in the corner that was showing commercials about a 60's movie marathon coming up in a few weeks. He almost stopped to watch more intently when the bell chimed at the entrance.

'That's weird,' he thought absently. Usually the shop didn't get too many random customers in the early morning. And if anyone came in, they usually had something to pick up. Double-checking the clipboard on the table, Brady noticed nobody was scheduled to enter.

'Oh well,' he shrugged, walking out of the workshop to the main shop. "Hi, can I help you?" he greeted automatically.

A dark-haired girl whirled around to face him. "Oh. Um, hi?"

Brady nearly choked on his spit in his surprise. McKenzie, the same girl who glared at him with such hate the day before, the one he totally pissed off as soon as he met her, was standing in the middle of the shop.

"Mac-" he stopped himself. "I mean McKenzie?"

He tried to straighten up a little, attempting to show her he could be polite and proper; not mindlessly running into everyone and ruining treasurable possessions every step he took.

"Hi," she answered without meeting his eye.

Brady swallowed down his uneasiness. He had no idea if he should smile or just be civil. So far, she wasn't yelling or anything, so he took that as a good sign.

"Are you looking for your grandfather?" he spoke up, not knowing what else to say. That had to be it. She was probably just trying to find John, which was the only explanation as to why she even entered the shop.

"No, actually," she laughed quietly to herself. "I came to see you."

"Me?" he wondered in disbelief. He wiped his hands on a rag before placing them both on the counter to lean in closer, eyeing her inquisitively. "How come?"

There was _no way._ It had to be a joke or something. Twelve hours ago, she was glaring at him with her piercing dark eyes. Now she was coming to see him?!

"I, uh…I wanted to thank you."

Brady studied her. She was biting her lip and darting her eyes around, looking uneasy and nervous as she uttered her words. It was so obvious she wasn't used to thanking people and apologizing in her own way. He internally whooped for joy at her admission.

Even though he had a pretty strong guess as to what she was thanking him for, he still asked.

"You know…the book?" Her hands gestured around adorably.

"It was no big deal," Brady shrugged. There was no way he wanted her to know how crazy he made himself over the whole ordeal. He was now only pleased at the outcome.

"It was to me," Mack answered, honesty lacing her voice. Then something extraordinary happened. Something Brady had been waiting for.

She smiled.

It lit up her whole face, making her cheeks glow and her doe eyes sparkle. Of course, one of the simplest things a human being could do caused Brady's pulse to speed up rapidly.

She leaned in, draping her crossed arms over the counter to bring their faces a little closer.

At her question about the book, Brady embarrassedly confessed to his late afternoon visit to the bookstore to get her precious book. She smiled warmly at him. Honestly, Brady wasn't sure how many of her breathtaking smiles he could take in one day.

"That was the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me. Thank you, Brady."

He smiled up at her through his lashes, since his head was previously bent low in coyness. "I didn't think you knew my name. I figured you'd call me Shirtless Boy forever."

McKenzie gaped up at him. He watched humorously as she tried to stutter out an excuse. "No! It's not- well I just…"

"Chill," he reached out to place his hand on her smooth forearm. "It's fine, Kitty Slippers."

He finally felt normal and back to his regular self, enough to tease her.

"Kiity Slippers…?" she began in confusion, before disbelief spread over her features. "Oh, shut up!"

He couldn't help the laugh that escaped from his throat. McKenzie was actually a really cool girl. He knew there had to be a chill personality beneath her proper clothes and tough demeanor.

"Mack?" John entered from the backdoor.. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, hi Grandpa!" Mack greeted. "I'm just thanking Brady for bringing my book back."

"So you two are…" he trailed off. Brady knew John was aware of their predicament. When he dropped off the book and note the night before, he had to explain to the elder man what had happened between them.

"We're fine," Mack assured. He caught her eye from the corner of his.

"Well, that's good," he answered in relief. "Brady, son, would you go to Freddy's house and give him this wax case for his longboard for me? I need to finish sanding the one in the workshop."

"Sure thing, John," he was glad to help him out. He leapt over the counter, turning to wait for the white-haired man to return with the equipment. He had been sanding surfboards all morning, and was thankful for any job outside the shop.

He turned his head to ask McKenzie about what she was doing later. Now that she didn't hate him, maybe she'd want to hang out or something. He figured he could show her around town.

Suddenly, he noticed she was walking toward the door, looking apprehensively at the sand outside.

"Hey, are you leaving?" he wondered. He didn't want her to leave. He found her presence insanely comfortable for an unknown reason.

"Yeah, I'm just heading back to the house," she answered, pointing a thumb over her shoulder out the door.

"Oh, okay. See ya, McKenzie," he waved. 'Sucks,' he thought, slightly put off. He still felt the relief of her acceptance of him flooding his body.

"You know, Brady," McKenzie spoke up. She stepped closer to him. "You make a really bad first impression, and an even worse second one."

Brady winced. He really didn't have to be reminded at how bad he screwed up with her. He hoped they could start over; a fresh start. Obviously, she was going somewhere with this and he was probably going to get in trouble with her again.

She was suddenly close enough that he could inhale her fruity scent. She placed a soft hand on his bicep and he couldn't stop the tenseness running through his muscles at the light contact.

"But," she started. "Your third one wasn't too bad."

He gaped. 'What?'

She whirled around, heading back toward the front door.

"Oh, and you can call me Mack!" she called over without turning around. Brady was left staring at the place she once was in surprise.

"She's quite a girl, isn't she, son?"

Brady didn't remove his gaze from the door Mack just walked through when he responded to the smug John standing at the counter.

"She definitely is."

* * *

**Yay they're friends-ish! I hope you liked this chapter:) I apologize for my slow updates but I'll try to get faster. Things are just pretty hectic around here and my wifi is all messed up, too! **

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